Seventh Heaven
by Dani Pink Cloud
Summary: Snape is dead, but that isn't the end of his story. One-shot. Some SS/LE.


**Seventh Heaven**

He didn't know how or why he had woken up, nor even if he had ever been asleep at all. It was as if he had just come into being - but maybe he had existed for seconds or years or eons. Time wasn't real to him, that elusive dimension man invented seemingly solely to complicate the universe, was not even part of reality now.  
>Was he even part of reality? Was this - whatever this was - reality? Could this all be a dream?<br>He discovered that he existed physically, that he was not simply a disembodied cloud of thoughts, when he realized that he could see and so therefore had eyes. His eyes slowly managed to tell him that he was a human being, lying in pure white robes that blended with the white mist that surrounded him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of his own black hair hanging around his face limply, contrasting sharply with the setting.  
>"Severus."<br>Severus Snape scrambled to his feet at the sound. He searched inside his robes automatically for his wand, for anything with which to defend himself.  
>But the old man chuckled, a sad smile on his face, his piercing blue eyes peering out from those half-moon spectacles. "You won't be needing that here."<br>Something in the back of Snape's mind told him he should be surprised, worried, maybe even angry at the man who should have been dead - he had killed him himself! - standing before him, but instead he felt a strange, unfamiliar, yet strong sense of calm, a calm he had not felt for sixteen years, maybe longer, and he simply asked, "Where's here?"  
>Dumbledore looked around curiously. "Well, I certainly don't know. Where do you think we are?"<br>Only now did Snape legitimately consider the question. Peering around, the white seemed to give way to a high ceiling, an open, spacious room, arches, and, strangely enough, beyond some arches to his right, a train. "King's Cross station," he breathed.  
>Dumbledore searched his face curiously, staring at him as if he could read his soul in his eyes. "That's not the first time I've heard that answer," he murmured. He thought for a moment more with searching eyes. "It's only natural though," he decided.<br>Curiosity aroused, Snape asked, "Who else?"  
>"Harry Potter."<br>And no matter how Snape hated to admit it, even to himself, he knew Dumbledore was right: it was only natural. Snape knew - had always known, really, but here in this changed King's Cross station everything came together - that he and the Potter boy had a connection, something in common, something other than Lily Evans. They were the abandoned boys. The ones whose one and only home was Hogwarts. So it only made sense that for both of them this place - whatever it was, not heaven but something else - would appear as the beginning point of their journey home.  
>A terrible thought hit Snape then. The abandoned boys. There had once been another, quite like Harry and Snape, another far more terrible and yet frighteningly similar. Tom Riddle. He would come here. Snape tensed, suddenly on the defensive.<br>But Dumbledore chuckled softly. "He will never come here."  
>Dumbledore's words rang true and instinctively Snape knew he was right. He relaxed. But his brain insisted, "Why not? How do you know?"<br>Snape may as well have asked out loud. Maybe he had. Either way, Dumbledore answered, a serene smile on his face. "Lord Voldemort does not know love. He will never know this place."  
>There was a silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable one, however. It was simply there, and it lasted for an indeterminate amount of time. Snape had almost forgotten he wasn't alone when Dumbledore spoke again, his soothing voice seeming harsh in the silence. "Severus, are you wondering where you are?"<br>As a matter of fact, Snape had been wondering. But his thoughts were disjointed and he hadn't been able to focus. Memories were flashing through his brain and he was trying to process them - were they from years ago or hours? And the one that kept returning was the image of a pair of green eyes, eyes he knew so well but for some reason they were hidden behind round glasses -  
>Snape's train of thought suddenly switched back to Dumbledore's question and he answered uncertainly, "Yes . . ."<br>Dumbledore was silent. He was not offering any answers. Snape would figure it out himself. He tried to concentrate, tried to bring back the memories in order, to figure out what had happened to him before he had ended up here, because he knew there was something . . .  
>A snake-like face, a pair of red eyes, a live snake floating in an enchanted bubble, a wand in his face, and a voice making a terrible snarling, hissing sound . . . the snake coming toward him . . . the snake striking . . . Snape winced at the memory of each strike. And then the boy - Harry. Giving him the memories. Making sure he knew the truth. And then the eyes.<br>"Am I . . . am I dead?"  
>Dumbledore chuckled again. "No, I wouldn't say so, although your body may be."<br>Snape looked around, slowly piecing it together. He caught sight of the train and asked, "Where does that go?"  
>A soft, almost sad smile from under Dumbledore's silver mustache said everything. "On," he answered simply.<br>"And should I go . . . on?"  
>"That is your choice, Severus."<br>Dumbledore watched Snape as he moved slowly over toward the train, passing the arches, making his way across the platform, closer to the track. Snape's eyes roved over the train itself. It looked like an exact replica of the Hogwarts Express, but instead of the scarlet red it was golden. Dumbledore appeared at the door to the train and opened it up. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.  
>Faces peered out at Snape. Windows up and down the train opened, allowing more people to look out at him. He recognized every face - all were people he had known, people he knew had hated him, and yet he had sacrificed everything for them. Snape knew they had never trusted him, not really, no matter what Dumbledore said, but he had worked for all these years for them.<br>Snape looked at Dumbledore, who nodded gently, and then boarded the train. Dumbledore followed, closing the door behind them.  
>Snape felt like an eleven-year-old boy again, searching for a place to sit on his very first Hogwarts Express ride. Except that then he had had Lily, and now he was alone.<br>He turned left, looked down the corridor between compartments. Colin Creevey poked his head out of one compartment, Fred Weasley another. Farther down the corridor were Remus and Tonks, holding hands. Dobby the house-elf peered around the gnarled leg of Mad-Eye Moody. A familiar snowy white owl flew free in the middle of the corridor. Snape refused to look at their faces for more than a second - he didn't want to see their reactions when they saw him here.  
>So he turned his back on the left side and turned right. And then he gasped. Dumbledore caught his arm and pushed him forward gently.<br>She was there, walking toward him down the corridor, that familiar, beautiful smile on her face, showing even in her bright green eyes. "Lily," he managed to get out.  
>"Hi, Sev," she said, approaching quickly now, and then she was there right in front of him. Their eyes met, both wet with tears, and then the two embraced in a tight hug.<br>"I'm sorry, Lily, I'm so sorry," Snape sobbed into her shoulder. "I failed."  
>"No, Sev," Lily said softly, smiling up at him. "You're here. He'll be fine. He knows now; he will win. You didn't fail. You protected Harry, just like you promised Dumbledore. Yes, I know about that. I know about your Patronus too, Severus," she added at his hesitancy.<br>Words would not come to Snape's mind. He took in Lily, her look, her smile, her presence, and he felt like he was in heaven.  
>The words suddenly fell out of Snape's mouth like stones; he hadn't meant to say that, but now they were there and he meant it. "You'll stay with me?"<br>Lily smiled gently and took his hand. "Always."


End file.
